


It’s Not Complicated, It’s Political

by pornbot



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Marriage to save villain from execution, Treat, We Don't Like Each Other But We Sure Will Keep Fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24053875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pornbot/pseuds/pornbot
Summary: Harry is tired of death. Tired of the aftermath of the war. Tired of the “neutral” blood purists who, having taken no side in the war, have taken over the Ministry and declaring themselves the only people who can preside fairly over the war trials.  So when the announcement that Draco Malfoy will be Kissed is published Harry will do anything to prevent another pointless death.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	It’s Not Complicated, It’s Political

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dytabytes](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dytabytes/gifts).



> Written for Dytabyte’s Id Pro Quo request.
>
>>   
> Tags: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter Books), Medium: Fanfiction, Accidental Marriage - Due to Misunderstanding the Norms of Another Culture, Antagonistic Sex - 'Make Me', Enemies to Lovers - Accidental soulbond between enemies, Identity Porn - nemeses A & B just found out their secret identities are married to each other, Marriage to save villain from execution, Monstrous transformation does not get in the way of a relationship - in fact it makes things better, Misunderstandings - Pining character thinks they're FWB; other thinks they're already dating, Spanking - Dom who's reluctant to spank starts getting into it, Villians keep tying character up leading to bondage kink, We Don't Like Each Other But We Sure Will Keep Fucking, Ritual Sex Magic, If I Must Solve A Dozen Geopolitical Problems Just To Have Sex With You Then I Will
>> 
>> Summary:  
> I tried to pick free forms that go together, but feel free to pick and choose whatever piques your interests. It's Drarry and thus I am open to anything c:
>> 
>> Please note that I don't care if you want to ignore the epilogue and post-books material, and I'm also super okay with you setting your fic at whatever point in the timeline piques your interest, whether that be in third year, seventh year, or years after they graduate.
>> 
>> DNW: mundane AU (coffeeshop, no powers), issue fic, mommy/daddy kink

It was one of those London winter mornings where a creeping mist came up off the Thames slithering in through cracks in the walls, under doors and around windows until the house was chill. The weak morning sun felt like it would never burn the fog off. Harry had stumbled shivering down to the kitchen called by the smell of cooking bacon. Hermione and Ron were already downstairs. Ron was cooking breakfast dressed in a dressing gown Harry was sure had been a birthday present for Hermione and a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron.

Hermione was already dressed for work and sitting at the table reading the Daily Prophet. “We can’t let it happen.” She said to the room as Harry sat down. She dropped the Daily Prophet to the table letting Harry and Ron see the front page.

The front page headline declared ‘Draco Malfoy found guilty. Sentenced to the Kiss’. Ron put the tea pot down on top of it before levitating their breakfast plates in front of them. He was a much better cook than Hermione and far more concerned about food tasting good than just being available when they were hungry than Hermione or Harry. Him taking over the cooking had made staying at Grimmauld Place with Krecher busy at Hogwarts with the repairs far more pleasant.

“What are we doing today?” Ron asked trying to change the subject but for once Harry and Hermione were in agreement about the importance of their outrage.

“They’re making him a scapegoat.” Harry said. “He didn’t do anything that should have earned the Kiss. His dad-”

“Why are we returning to using the Dementors.” Hermione cut him off. “It’s inhumane and they’ve proven they will desert.” Ron had been about to object but he nodded to her second statement and subsided, picking up a mouthful of eggs.

“There must be something we can do.” Harry said.

“Someone in good standing could take responsibility for him.” Ron said around his mouthful of eggs.

“Mouth!” Hermione said, making a disgusted face.

“We’re in good standing.” Harry said, dragging his fork through his ignored meal. It scraped against the plate. Ron and Hermione winced.

Ron blanched and Hermione said, “I can’t.”

“So I do.” Harry said.

“You’d have to marry him.” Ron said. “He’s our age so you couldn’t adopt him.” 

Harry shrugged. Too many people had died already. It seemed wrong that they had won and people were still dying, especially people like Malfoy. He’d just been a kid like them stuck in a shitty position.

“You’ll have to consummate the marriage.” Hermione said. 

Harry knew that should have given him pause but it didn’t seem that important when Malfoy would be dead. He would never become the tolerable person Harry had seen glimpses of if Harry didn’t do this. “It won’t last forever.” He said instead.

“Ginny will never forgive you.” Ron told him.

“She’s not interested anyway.” Hermione said before he and Ron could restart that argument. 

And that was that, Hermione and Ron had agreed to the next stupid thing he suggested. Ron helped him word the letter to the Interim Chief Warlock and Hermione cleaned up the room next to his. It felt like one day they’d been sitting down to breakfast and Malfoy was a distant thought and barely the next he was arriving at their doorstep.

Malfoy had been accompanied by two of the new intake Aurors, Harry didn’t recognise them. They looked like they would have been at Hogwarts when they were but they weren’t DA members nor had they been part of the “junior Death Eaters” crowd. That wasn’t unexpected, very few of the DA had taken up the offer of joining the Aurors and of those who had even fewer had stayed. These Aurors were rough with Malfoy and distrustful Harry, Hermione and Ron. Even being the “Man-Who-Won” wasn’t enough to clear Harry of contamination in their minds.

The bonding ceremony was in the evening but Arthur, who had been very supportive when he found out, had managed to get Malfoy released early, for which Harry was very grateful. Malfoy’s prison uniform smelt like he had been wearing it exclusively for a month and his normally rigidly gelled hair was loose, tangled and nearly down to his hips. He was almost scarily thin. His face was pinched and white and he looked more scared than Harry had ever seen him. His normal attitude seemed to have deserted him for he was silent from arrival until Ron led him away. Harry noted as the Aurors left that while the agreement said he would get Malfoy’s wand when he was delivered, they had left without handing over the wand.

They had agreed that Ron would take him upstairs; help him clean up and change and feed him while Hermione and Harry left the house. It would be easier on both Hermione and Malfoy, Harry wasn’t sure if they could share a house, if she could look at him and not remember him standing by as his aunt tortured her. 

The ceremony wasn’t anything like Bill and Fleur’s, the only other Wizarding wedding Harry had been to. Neither of Malfoy’s parents were there, his father already Kissed and his mother exiled. Nor had Malfoy been able to have any say in how the wedding was planned and there hadn't been time or allowance for much fanciness. Harry had relied on Andromeda and Molly as representatives for both their families for most of the arrangements.

He and Hermione, standing as his Best Man as Ron was needed to manage Malfoy, changed at the Burrow before apparating to the chosen location as the sun set. That could have been romantic, but nothing about this wedding was romantic even by Harry’s limited awareness of the term. The guest list was small, intimate and Ministry approved. Both the location and the Officiant had been chosen by the Ministry. The location was a Muggle conference venue, the coldest and most soulless place Harry had ever been and he had lived on Privet Drive. The Officiant somehow combined red faced anger with officious smarm to make every word he said crawl up Harry’s spine. There were no decorations as all had been considered possible threats to the Ministry officials who would be attending to confirm the marriage and most of the wedding party were reusing robes from previous events. Harry, Ron and Hermione had worn their robes to Bill and Fleur’s wedding and Malfoy was wearing a speedily tailored pair of Fred’s. Harry couldn’t imagine this was the type of wedding Malfoy expected to have and while he didn’t mind his wedding being small and simple he didn’t appreciate the Ministry interference. 

Malfoy, and Ron, arrived last. Which from Harry’s memory was when the bride, which he guessed Malfoy effectively was, normally arrived but the Ministry officials were tutting despite having been there barely five minutes themselves. He was still oddly silent. Normally Malfoy ran his mouth, even when he would have been better served to stay silent. Harry was expecting a snide tirade about how nothing was up to Malfoy’s standards. Hell, a sneered scarhead would have been nice to know they hadn’t totally erased Malfoy’s Malfoyness. Not silence except a whispered “I do” when required, desperately flickering eyes and the look of someone who would bolt if they could work out where and how. 

The idea of fucking a man didn’t bother Harry. It wasn’t something he’d thought of often but he was a healthy eighteen year old who had spent his formative years sharing a dormitory with other teenage boys, the thought of touching them had crossed his mind. He’d read the dirty magazines that did the rounds and had wanked off to the thought of vague men who would definitely didn’t bear any resemblance to anyone. The idea of fucking Malfoy normally wouldn’t have crossed his mind but Harry had to admit it didn’t sound awful if Malfoy was gagged. He was, Harry supposed, attractive in a pointy kind of way. The idea of fucking this rabbit did not appeal and they would have to consummate the marriage tonight.

There was no reception. The Ministry had not approved for one to take place at their location and Molly and Andromeda didn’t think Malfoy, fresh from Azkaban would be physically capable of a large party at the Burrow after the stress of the day. Instead sympathetic looks were shot at Harry and Malfoy who went back to Grimmauld Place with Ron while Hermione headed back to the Burrow.

At Grimmauld Place, Ron had a chicken and mushroom pie and rice pudding in the oven. Gentle, easy food but delicious as always when Ron cooked. Ron had discovered cooking to be a good way to work through his frustrations and worries without blow up fights with Hermione, so the pastry was perfectly flaky, the chicken tender and soft and the sauce and rice pudding perfectly creamy without being too rich. 

Malfoy managed very little but his old attitude had returned. “Interviewing for a job as a house elf Weasel?” He asked, then flinched from a hand that didn’t appear and added in a weedling tone. “Thank you, it’s really good.”

The awkward tone continued for the evening. Malfoy was never their friend or someone they would have chosen to spend time with under normal circumstances. If they’d ever found Malfoy’s unpleasant commentary on the world amusing they were well past it now but flinching and silence wasn’t an improvement. Harry and Ron tried to talk about subjects they thought Malfoy might find interesting and engage with without insult but the only successful topic was the current Quidditch season. Conversation about Quidditch could only be dragged out so long when Draco had been unable to follow the season and Harry was only so interested in reading about Quidditch although Ron did his best.

Harry procrastinated taking Malfoy up to what would now be their room. The rabbit impression didn’t dissipate nor had the awkward evening done anything to make the coming consummation any more appealing but at 9 o’clock with Malfoy falling asleep in his armchair Harry had avoided it as long as he could. He nodded to Ron thinking that this was the most uncomfortable moment of his life. He was telling his best mate he was about to have sex that neither he nor his partner wanted, with someone neither of them would have ever chosen to save his partner’s life. 

Sighing, Harry gently shook Malfoy awake and indicated they should go up stairs. If it was possible Malfoy paled even further but followed. He might normally, Harry grudgingly admitted, be attractive but not in this skin and bones state. The dark circles under his eyes stood out like bruises and his skin was so close to his bones that Harry could follow the small capillaries down from his temples to his cheeks. Still and shivery when he was normally smooth, brash movement that was always alive. The bulk and life of quidditch and youth drained from him by war and Azkaban.

Malfoy’s footsteps on the stairs were trepidatious, not a word Harry would have ever associated with him before but he too would like to draw this out as long as possible, to put off what was to come. Grimmauld Place was not that large though and even slow, considered footsteps could not put off opening the bedroom door for long. Could not put off closing the door behind Malfoy and being trapped. Harry wondered if he would be more confident if he’d done this before. If he and Ginny had got beyond frantic, furtive kisses interrupted by war and older brothers.

The closing of the door seemed to have plunged Malfoy in to fight now he was deprived of the glimmer of flight. “Were you so desperate for this you had to buy it Scarhead?” He sneered, full of false bravado and posing to highlight his features.

In Harry’s mind it did better to highlight his scary slimness and how tired he looked but he was relieved. A sneering, jeering Malfoy he knew how to deal with. “So sexy,” He said, “A shivering ferret.” Malfoy flinched. “Just too soft to let you die as the ministry’s scapegoat.” Harry muttered but Malfoy didn’t seem to hear.

“Do I get to scream?” Malfoy asked, stripping with economical, angry movements. “Or do you want to gag me?”

Harry’s own thoughts about Malfoy being only interesing to fuck if you could keep him from running his mouth came back to him and he cringed. The body Malfoy had revealed was as scrawny as his face and wrists had suggested. His spine, hip bones and ribs stood in stark relief, shadowed like bruises. His fair skin showed every scar. There were many but Harry’s gaze was drawn to the jagged scar down his chest. He did that, he was the first person to try to kill Malfoy. Harry felt sick. Without conscious thought he backed up against the door, trying to back away from his guilt as Malfoy hovered bent over the footboard.

A long moment passed before Malfoy stood back up. “The way this works Potty,” He sneered, “is you bend me over and fuck me. Then we go to our own beds and I don’t get Kissed in the morning.” He stalked towards Harry. “Or was this just some twisted game?” An angry flush had coloured his cheeks and chest a delicate pink. He looked healthier and more attractive than he had since he arrived.

Malfoy poked Harry in the chest, a hard pressure against his sternum. Harry’s gaze dropped from his face to his finger and following the natural angle drew it to Malfoy’s dick, flaccid, small and pale between his legs. Malfoy’s pubic hair was so thin and white it seemed nonexistent and his balls were low and relaxed. He looked nothing like the glimpses of Seamus or Ron Harry had seen or the porn magazines where he had guiltily looked at the men as much as the women.

“Don’t just stare at it!” Malfoy said, poking him in the chest with every word. “Get it over with.” Malfoy looked at him properly. “Or don’t you know how.” Harry felt himself flush. He shouldn’t have done this. They should have found another way. “You don’t do you?” Malfoy’s voice had taken a mocking sing-song edge. “Is Potty a virgin? The Weaselette didn’t open her legs for you?”

Harry’s temper flared. With one thought and movement he socked Malfoy on the chin. Malfoy fell to the ground, his mouth open with shock and Harry followed him. Malfoy’s shock didn’t last and they were quickly tussling. Malfoy’s emaciated frame held a surprising amount of strength and guilt was already cooling Harry’s fury. They ended with Malfoy sitting on top of Harry breathing hard. His eyes were dancing and he looked more himself than he had since he arrived. His dick was half hard, pink and lots bigger than it had been.

Malfoy followed Harry’s gaze and smirked. With one delicate hand he cupped his balls and with the other he slid it down his dick pulling the foreskin down. He ground down on to Harry. Harry could feel his own dick limp from his guilt hardening under Malfoy and his breath quickening. “I guess I will have to get it done.” 

Malfoy lifted himself up and slid a hand into Harry’s robes. With the same smooth movements he was wanking himself he stimulated Harry. This was the first time Harry had ever felt another person’s hand on his dick. Ginny had touched him fleetingly through clothes but nothing like this overwhelming sensation. It wasn’t the way he would have wanked himself off but the lack of feedback and inability to predict exactly when and where contact would be in the next moment was amazing. 

“Did you get lube?” Malfoy asked. Harry scowled at him and reached up to push him off. Malfoy stood willingly in one smooth elegant movement slightly spoiled by his bobbing penis. It was long and fully hard now. The tip was a shiny deep red.

Harry stumbled as he stood, Malfoy having undone his trousers while he was wanking him. Malfoy sniggered at him. Clutching his dignity, Harry stalked across the room, pulled a bottle of lube out of the bedside table and slammed it down with more confidence than he felt.

Malfoy seemed amused. “Well strip then, Potter.” He drawled and wandered to the bed. Harry wondered how confident he really was; he certainly seemed back to his normal arrogant self.

Harry turned his back and stripped, trying to pretend this was a quidditch changing room. He could feel his boner melting. Once his clothes were off he hovered with his back to the bed awkwardly, unsure what to do now.

“Turn round and sit down, Potter.” Malfoy sounded impatient. “The sooner we do this, the sooner we can pretend it never happened.” 

The reminder that Malfoy had had no choice in this softened the remainder of Harry’s erection and he slumped to the bed. He collapsed backward onto the bed and raised his arms to cover his face. He could feel a tension headache developing. Why had he thought this was a good idea?

“Are you straight, Potter?” Malfoy asked in an incredulous tone. His slim hand had returned to Harry’s todger. 

“Right, sure.” Harry rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. “That’s why I’ve got a bloke’s hand on my dick and I’m about to sleep with him.” 

“A wizard’s backdoor isn’t any different to a witch's.” Malfoy continued like he hadn’t said anything. “I bend over. You slick that up and and think of Celestina Warbeck, or whoever.”

Harry grimaced and his dick made a game attempt at shrinking in Malfoy’s hand. “Uck.”

Malfoy’s efforts redoubled. “My life is dependent on us fucking tonight! Try to keep it up scarhead.” 

Malfoy went silent and Harry tried to relax into his ministrations. It was good. If he didn’t think about why they were doing this it was really good. Malfoy wasn’t pretty the way Ginny and Cho were but he was attractive. That long straight nose, sharp pointy little chin and hard forehead combined to create a face that looked intense no matter what. Malfoy’s thumb flicked over the head of Harry’s dick and his hips bucked up automatically. “Merlin.” He gasped. His musings on Malfoy’s appearance cut off midthought. Malfoy’s other hand slipped down between Harry’s legs. It was cool and slick as it ran a gentle path to circle around his bumhole. Harry moaned and let his legs fall further open.

“We have to fuck.” Malfoy said, his finger slowly pressing into Harry. It should have felt strange. Harry was sure he should be objecting to this. “But you don’t have to rodger me.” 

Malfoy’s first finger had been joined by a second and they were steadily thrusting into Harry. “Ung.” Harry tried again. “Yes -” He cut himself off with a moan. “Let’s” He was rocking his hips in time with Malfoy’s thrusting fingers chasing the sparks of pleasure so good they hurt.

Malfoy didn’t wait for Harry to change his mind. With one smooth movement he pulled Harry’s right leg up over his shoulder, removed his fingers and started pressing his slick, thick dick into Harry. 

It burnt. Felt much larger than Harry could take. Took forever to all be in him and Malfoy pressed flush against him. His eyes glittering. Cheeks flushed. Hair wildy spread over his shoulders. “Relax, Potter.” He said.

Harry took long slow breaths. Malfoy’s hand was back around his dick. The burn receding as he was wanked with languid strokes in time with his breathing. 

“Move” He said, rolling his hips down into the mattress.

Malfoy’s hands came up to either side of Harry’s head and he began pistoning in and out of Harry. Harry rolled his hips to meet him. 

The burn was back but so was the pleasure. Each trust made sparks radiate from his pelvis and waves of pleasure rolled over him from where Malfoy was thrusting into him. He needed more. Needed to come. Harry took his own dick in hand. Rubbing himself off in time with their thrusts. 

It was good and fast. The only noise was their breaths and the squelching slapping as Malfoy bottomed out. Malfoy was panting above him. His entire body shook with the effort. Too soon he lost his rhythm. Thrusting staccato into Harry before collapsing down on him.

Harry was close. So close. Two more strokes of his dick and he was done. Malfoy was already snoring into his shoulder. 

Malfoy was heavy and sharply boney. He didn’t wake when Harry rolled him off of himself. Just murmured and slipped from inside Harry. He felt odd. Sticky but that was easily solved.

He dithered and redressed in pyjamas after cleaning himself off and clambered into bed. It took him far less time to fall asleep next to Malfoy than he would have thought.

Harry slept better than he thought he would and woke up to a deep ache in his bum. Not pain but muscles telling him that he’d made them work like he’d spent seven hours on a broom after not flying for a month. The weak winter morning light was trickling through the curtains he hadn’t properly closed telling him it was nearly eleven. The light fell across the back of Malfoy’s head where he was pressed into the pillow. Like this, facing away with the covers pulled up to his armpits and his long hair spread across him and the pillow, Malfoy looked delicate. He reminded Harry of Muggle pictures of elves he’d seen at Primary School or Luna. 

Harry’s stomach growled and he pulled himself from the warm covers. Malfoy stirred as Harry moved. There was a split second when he seemed comfortable before he processed that it wasn’t his bed at home or Hogwarts and scrambled up.

“Ron will have breakfast under warming charms.” Harry said to Malfoy, trying to indicate he was safe and they weren't going to hurt him.

“Shouldn’t Granger be doing that?” Malfoy asked, standing up and pulling his borrowed wedding robes. “Isn’t that what mudbloods are for in this new world order?” 

Harry glowered at him but that was what the new administration at the Ministry seemed to believe. Hermione had found work outside of the Ministry after being rejected from every Ministry job she applied for and none of the Muggleborn members of the DA had been offered positions either to train as an Auror or elsewhere in the Ministry. “We don’t use that word here.” He said instead.

Malfoy shrugged and stretched. “You weren’t bad for a virgin.” He leered at Harry. “Could be benefits to this marriage.” 

Malfoy stalked out the door before Harry could respond. Harry could hear Malfoy clattering down to the kitchen as he followed more slowly. He had to admit the sex had been good. Malfoy was still an awful person but he wouldn’t mind doing that again.


End file.
